The Winding Stair

by Jane Aiken Hodge

  Once again his hand reached up to find hers. ‘And cold, my poor darling. I suppose there’s no more fuel for the brazier?’

  ‘It’s outside.’

  ‘Of course. It would be. Come and sit beside me, love, and at least let me try and keep you warm. Oh God, Juana, if only I’d left you in England.’

  What a strange thing. She had thought she looked forward to telling him that it was really Vasco who had arranged for her to come to Portugal, that they had all been merely his puppets, but when it came to a point, she had glided over this in her story. It would be intolerable for Gair to think he had been merely Vasco’s dupe, and Mrs. Brett’s. She turned toward him in the darkness. ‘Never think that,’ she said. ‘I’d rather be here, with you, for the rest of the time we have.’

  ‘Juana!’ In a moment, the control that had kept them side by side, merely touching each other, was going to snap.

  ‘Shh … Listen!’ Was it imagination, or had she heard the sound of movement in the big cavern?

  He had heard it too. They were on their feet, moving silently to the open panel. And, far away to their left they could see the flickering light of a lantern. ‘Should I close it?’ she whispered.

  ‘No. We must know … But it’s too soon surely?’

  He was right. They had agreed that since the air in the Handmaiden’s cell was supposed to last through the meeting it must take some considerable time for a prisoner there to die of suffocation. Juana shivered, thinking of Tomas, dying here, ignorant of the panel that might have saved him.

  Gair’s hand on hers was a warning. The lantern was nearer now. They could see that it was carried by one man, apparently alone. Vasco? Gair moved away and she heard him pick up the heavy chair, the only possible weapon.

  The approaching figure wore the robes of a Son of the Star. His hood was drawn close about his face and she could not see his emblem. But, surely, he was too tall for Vasco? She dared not speak to Gair, but touched him lightly in warning. The hooded figure was very near now. He put down the lantern on the rough floor of the cave and felt in his pocket. For a moment, the light of the lantern showed a pistol ready in his right hand. He bent to look at the fastening of the cell door. The panel was close behind it. Juana hardly dared breathe. If she had had a weapon, might she have been able to reach him?

  He straightened up again, and spoke. ‘Juana! Can you hear me?’ The voice, low and cautious, echoed unrecognisable in the big cave. Gair’s hand on hers told her to say nothing.

  ‘Juana! Can you hear me?’ Again. ‘It’s I, Roberto, your cousin. I came as soon as I could. Can you hear me, Juana?’ A little pause. ‘I’ve not got the key. I’m going to have to blow the lock off. If you can hear me, Juana, stand away from the door.’

  Vasco would have had the key. Her hand and Gair’s communed in the darkness. ‘Roberto!’ she whispered through the opening. ‘Is it really you?’

  ‘Thank God!’ He straightened up at the sound of her voice. ‘I’m not too late. And Senhor Varlow?’

  ‘Is here too. Oh, God, Roberto, but I’m glad to see you.’

  ‘We must lose no time. He may come back. Stand well away from the door, both of you.’ The shot echoed horribly in the big cavern. Then the cell door swung open and Roberto entered, hood thrown back so they could see his face. ‘Juana, you’re none the worse?’

  ‘Not now you’re here. But Roberto, how?’

  ‘Later,’ he said. ‘First we must get out of here. It’s a rough climb I’m afraid. Do you think you can manage, Juana? We can’t go back through the castle; it’s not safe. Uncle Miguel has been sleeping in the old lady’s room since she died. You know he’s the Brother of the Ragged Staff, de Mascarenhas’ right-hand man? It’s not safe for you there, Juana, not now.’

  ‘Miguel!’ So many things suddenly, horribly, made sense. ‘But how do we go, Roberto?’

  ‘Through the tunnel to the Pleasant Valley. You’ll get wet, I’m afraid.’

  She could not help laughing. ‘Dear Roberto, just now getting wet is the least of our worries. But, Gair, are you strong enough?’ By the light of Roberto’s lantern she could see the swelling bruise on the side of his head.

  ‘Of course. And your cousin’s right; we mustn’t waste a moment. Who else knows this entrance?’ They were out already, following Roberto across the great cavern.

  ‘The inner circle, I think. Not that I’m one of them. If I had been, I would not have let that liar de Mascarenhas delude me so. Juana, we owe you a great debt for what you did tonight. But – here’s the entrance.’ He had led them swiftly but carefully over the increasingly rough rock of the cavern floor. Now he rounded one high pinnacle and showed them a dark opening concealed by the masking rock. ‘We have to crawl for the first bit,’ he explained. ‘I’ll go first, then you, Juana, then Senhor Varlow. I’ll feel much safer when we’re out of this cavern. There was a good deal of talk, while the meeting was breaking up. They’re not solidly behind de Mascarenhas any more. I think it just possible that he will regret his decision about you, Juana, and come back. Now, follow me, do exactly as I do, and don’t try to talk.’ He kilted up his robe with its cord, bent down and crawled into the opening.

  Juana had more trouble with her skirts, since the red velvet must be got out of the way as well as the cloak. ‘Here’ – Gair handed her his cord – ‘use this too.’

  ‘Thank you. What shall I do with this?’ She took off the diadem Vasco had made her wear and was about to drop it at the entrance to the tunnel when Gair took it from her. ‘We might as well keep it,’ he said, ‘as a souvenir of the day you were Queen.’

  ‘Hurry!’ Roberto’s voice from the tunnel. Juana bent down and followed him into it. The going was not, in fact, quite so bad as she had feared. At some point, this tunnel must have been the channel of an underground stream, and the water had smoothed away the rock. But it was awkward enough, working one’s way along, half crawling, half crouching, and it was with a sigh of relief that she saw Roberto rise to his feet ahead of her.

  ‘There.’ He helped her up. ‘That’s the worst bit over. Except the stream. Can you go straight on, Juana?’

  ‘Of course.’ She turned to Gair, who had joined them, and saw that he had taken off his robes and was carrying them in an awkward bundle. ‘And you?’

  ‘Yes. Let’s lose no time.’

  From now on they could walk upright, but the going was much rougher, and from time to time Roberto had to pass the lantern back to Juana so that she could light Gair over a particularly difficult bit. Presently he stopped and Juana heard the sound of water. ‘We’re beside the stream now,’ he said. ‘The entrance is in the bank. One has to go straight across and up the other side. But, first, you two wait here while I make sure there is no one about. I can’t think why they should have anyone on guard here, but we’ll take no chances.’ He handed the lantern to Gair. ‘Hold this. If I don’t come back, it means they’ve got a guard on the far side of the stream. You’ll need to be ready to defend yourselves. You’d better have this too.’ He handed over the pistol, which Gair took without protest.

  ‘All’s well. So far.’ Roberto returned a few minutes later. ‘Take my hand Juana. The water’s only waist deep.’

  ‘Is that all!’ She followed him round a last turn of the tunnel and saw the glow of moonlight ahead.

  ‘Quietly now!’ He helped her out of the entrance and down into the cold, swift-running stream. For a moment, it was an effort to stand upright, then she was following him across, rocks shifting under her feet, the cold water rising to her waist. On the other side, they plunged at once into a thicket of myrtle and small oaks, through which, to her relief, ran the tiniest possible path. ‘Wait here,’ he whispered, and went back to fetch Gair.

  She knew where they were now. This was the thicket just below the pressing floor. Incredible to be so near home and so far from safety. Her velvet gown clung soaking around her legs and long involuntary shivers ran through her. What now?

  ‘We have to
walk, I’m afraid.’ Roberto’s whisper, as he and Gair joined her, answered her unspoken question. ‘I dared not take horses from the stables. Thank God the moon’s still up.’ He had blown out the lantern and as they emerged from the thicket their shadows lay long on the path in front of them.

  ‘Where to?’ Juana fell into step beside him.

  ‘I’ve friends in Guincho who will hide you while we decide what to do next. With luck we should get there by dawn.’

  ‘You’re sure they’re safe?’ This was Gair, from beyond Juana.

  ‘Yes. They’re women.’ They were nearly up to the little village of peasant houses at the head of the valley. ‘Quiet now.’

  It was strange and horrible to walk silently through the well-known villages, knowing it full of friends who might be enemies. But it was worse still to pass the castle where it lay dark against the moonlit sky. Suppose they were to meet Miguel on his way back from the meeting? Miguel, who, Juana realised now, had been playing Vasco’s game all along. It was Miguel, of course, who had delayed her, the day she was kidnapped, Miguel, too, who had sent for Vasco on the day of her sisters’ double wedding. And Miguel who had written to the lawyer. No wonder Gonçalves had never come. But there was worse than any of this. There was old Mrs. Brett. Could he have killed her, his own mother? She would probably never know.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The moon had set. A pale glow of light along the horizon heralded the dawn, and still Juana walked like an automaton between her two companions. They were planning together in low voices, but she was beyond caring, beyond listening, numb with exhaustion and accumulated shock. Vasco … Miguel … even old Mrs. Brett … How tight the web of treachery had been about her. Miguel – of course.

  ‘Gair?’

  ‘Yes, love?’ How naturally he said it.

  ‘I’ve just thought of something. Uncle Miguel is one of the inner circle. That night I listened, I thought I recognised another voice besides Vasco’s, but couldn’t place it. Now, I’m almost sure it was Miguel. Will that help?’

  ‘Immensely. It’s what we need.’ And then: ‘Look!’

  They stopped. Behind the hills, the sun must have risen. Almost before their eyes the sea had turned to silver and they could see a majestic row of battleships, all sails set, taking advantage of the dawn breeze to head down toward the promontory that hid the mouth of the Tagus.

  ‘The English?’ asked Roberto.

  ‘Yes,’ said Gair. ‘I must lose no time. Lord Strangford has received his passports already; he’ll go aboard the moment he can.’ And then, at Juana’s exclamation. ‘Of course, you don’t know what’s been happening. England and Portugal have been almost in a state of war since Dom John signed his last set of edicts. Will your friends at Guincho have horses, Roberto? There’s not a moment to be lost.’

  ‘Undoubtedly. But this won’t change our plans?’

  ‘Not if I can catch Lord Strangford before he leaves. I’m sure when he hears my story he’ll stay to meet Dom John at Queluz and make one more effort at persuading him to escape to Brazil. Whatever happens, I’ll meet you at Queluz tonight. You have the Moniteur safe? The one with Napoleon’s statement that the House of Braganza no longer reigns in Europe?’

  ‘Yes, thank God. I wonder if de Mascarenhas has realised yet that in the confusion he never got it back.’

  ‘Lucky for us he didn’t sooner,’ said Gair. ‘He might well have come back for it.’

  Juana was counting again, footsteps this time. Five hundred and five, five hundred and six … They were down off the cliff now, approaching the wind-tormented sands of Guincho.

  ‘Nearly there,’ said Roberto.

  When had Gair put his arm round her? Would she be able to keep going if he took it away? Six hundred and three, six hundred and four … They had turned away from the coast road … There were trees at last, shading her from the morning dazzle of the sun.

  ‘Here we are.’ A cool courtyard, the sound of a fountain … voices … Gair was explaining something. She made a great effort to take it in. ‘Safe here.’ he was saying. ‘Rest. I’ll come for you as soon as I’ve made arrangements to get you out to the English squadron.’

  Now she was awake with a vengeance. ‘You’re not staying?’

  ‘We can’t, Juana. The fate of Portugal may be settled today. Roberto’s going to Queluz to meet Dom John who is due there, at last, from Mafra. I must get to Lisbon as fast as I can to catch Lord Strangford before he leaves. But I’ll be back for you, my heart.’ He kissed her hand, as he had done so many times before, pretending passion. Now it was real. How could the same gesture be so different? But there were people all around them. He let go of her hand. ‘You’ll look after her, senhora?’

  ‘Of course.’ A strange voice. ‘She’s asleep on her feet, the poor child. Come, menina.’

  Sleep came in a flood, like happiness, like despair. It seemed no time at all until she was being shaken awake, gently at first, then harder. She fought her way up from the depths: ‘What is it?’

  ‘He’s come for you, menina. It’s almost dark. You must lose no time, he says.’

  Gair was waiting in the courtyard beside a closed carriage. He was white with fatigue, the bruise showing dark on the side of his face. ‘Juana!’ His voice was a caress. ‘You’re ready? Thank God.’ She could feel his impatience to be gone, but he joined her, just the same, in the necessarily ceremonious thanks to her hostess before helping her into the carriage.

  It was dark inside. ‘Juana—’ The carriage moved heavily forward out of the courtyard. He was holding her hand in both of his. ‘It was real, wasn’t it? You’ll laugh at me, I hope … Do you know how I love you to laugh at me? Only – last night – down in the cave – you were afraid, distraught … I had no right to ask you then.’

  She smiled at him lovingly in the darkness. ‘Well, if you’re worried, Gair, ask me again.’

  ‘Juana! I adore you.’

  Now she could laugh. ‘That’s precisely what you’ve been saying for a year, and not meaning a word of it.’

  ‘But I did, don’t you see? I just didn’t know I did. Oh – what a fool you must think me!’

  ‘I think you a very able secret service agent.’

  ‘Oh, God, if I only were.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘That I’ve resigned.’

  ‘Gair! But why?’

  ‘There was nothing else to do. When I got to Strangford’s house, he was ready to go. I couldn’t persuade him to change his mind. He said it was too late for talking; time for action. He wouldn’t even wait while I fetched you. He’s aboard Sir Sidney Smith’s flagship by now. He expected me to go too.’

  ‘But you’re here.’

  ‘Of course I’m here, my heart. Where else?’

  ‘You resigned for my sake?’ She regretted the question the minute it was out.

  ‘Partly,’ he said. ‘Juana, I love you too much to lie to you. Of course, nothing would have made me leave you behind, but I think I resigned as much for Portugal’s sake as yours. You’ve not asked me where we are going?’

  ‘Why, nor I have. Where are we going, Gair?’

  ‘To Queluz, of course, to see Dom John. Since I can’t make Lord Strangford see the danger Vasco represents, I must help Roberto persuade Dom John.’

  ‘I see. I’m glad you think me worth telling the truth, Gair.’ She thought of adding ‘at last’, but did not.

  ‘ “At last”, you nearly said? Bless you, love; you’ve every right to reproach me, but believe me, I only kept you in the dark for your own sake.’

  ‘Yes, just like Vasco. The less a woman knows, the better. And very dangerous to me it turned out to be. Gair, promise you’ll never keep me in the dark again.’

  ‘I doubt if I’ll be able to. But, Juana, you’ve not answered my question.’

  ‘That, darling Gair, is because you have not asked it.’

  ‘Juana! Will you marry me?’

  ‘Oh, my darling, of course I
will.’ Safe in his arms, there were a thousand questions she wanted to ask him, but she could feel his exhaustion. ‘Rest, love, while you can,’ she said.

  ‘It seems such a waste—’ She could feel him droop against her. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to settle his head on her shoulder. ‘Cesario,’ he said, and slept.

  She had to rouse him when the carriage slowed down outside the palace of Queluz, where ranks of flaring torches lit up a scene of indescribable confusion. The royal cortège must have just arrived and sweating servants were busy unloading chairs and stools and ornate four-poster beds from waggons and carrying them into the elegant pink-fronted palace that was the Braganzas’ Versailles, as Mafra was their Escurial.

  ‘Keep well back in the carriage,’ said Gair, as their coachman drove on past the main entrance and round the side of the rambling palace to what was obviously a servants’ entrance. ‘We dare not be seen here, either of us.’ He helped her to alight and led her out into a moonlit formal garden. ‘No one knows how many of the Sons of the Star are about the Court,’ he went on as they approached the foot of a branching ornamental flight of steps.

  ‘And to meet one of them would be enough,’ agreed Juana. ‘Do you think they know yet?’

  ‘That we have escaped? I think we must assume so. Hush, there’s someone coming.’

  ‘Roberto,’ Juana said with relief as he approached them down the graceful stairway, the torch he carried held so as to light up his face.

  ‘You’re punctual, thank God.’ Roberto wasted no time on greetings. ‘Dom John will see us now.’

  ‘Alone?’

  ‘Yes, it took some persuading, but I managed in the end. I think, at last, he has realised how he is surrounded by treachery. I showed him the Moniteur. That shook him. That so many people should have known about it, and no one told him.’ He was leading them back up the flight of steps as he spoke. ‘Keep your veil well over your face, Juana, and you, senhor? Ah, I see …’

  Gair had produced a large handkerchief from his pocket and held it in front of his face as they threaded their way quickly through a maze of corridors. At last, Roberto opened a door, looked inside, spoke briefly, and ushered them into a small withdrawing room, still entirely devoid of furniture, where Dom John, unmistakably ugly, was standing by a window gnawing on a grilled chicken bone. At sight of them, he put it away in a small enamelled box, tucked that into the pocket of his brocade coat and came forward with a sudden and rather moving assumption of dignity. The fate of Portugal might lie in the balance, but the full ceremony of presentation, the bowing and curtsying must be gone through just the same. At last: ‘Senhor Brett – Alvidrar tells me you can substantiate this wild tale of his?’ The Prince Regent fixed his pop-eyed, anxious gaze on Gair.